


rebirth

by ache_for_him



Series: Sirens Wail Omega Verse [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Dark Will, M/M, Omega Will Graham, POV Alana Bloom, Past Alana Bloom/Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-07 22:07:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14090706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ache_for_him/pseuds/ache_for_him
Summary: Hannibal was Alana's Alpha. She was sure. She was one-hundred percent sure...So what the fuck is going on with Will?Make sure you read Sirens Wail by Breakmybones (Carter Reid) first else you won't understand!!!





	rebirth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Breakmybones (CarterReid)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarterReid/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Sirens Wail](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12146616) by [Breakmybones (CarterReid)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarterReid/pseuds/Breakmybones). 



> 'Sirens Wail' was epic af, and it stirred some plot bunnies so I had to have a go
> 
> Hannibal is not mine, despite my longing for it to be, so all rights go to Thomas Harris, NBC and Bryan Fuller

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rights of the verse to Breakmybones (Carter Reid), rights of the show to NBC, Bryan Fuller and Thomas Harris, and rights of this to my brain.

Hannibal was unlike any other Alpha she had ever met. Between the incredible wealth, class and beauty, Alana saw a thoroughbred that would care for his Omega in a manner that had often been lost in the modern day. She had known from the instant she met his gaze all those years ago at Johns Hopkins that she was lost to him. There was no overwhelming sense of the universe shifting or the Fates turning their threads to entwine their lives, however it was a deep-rooted knowledge all the same. She knew he was the one for her for the simple fact that there would never be anyone better. He ticked every box on her list and some that she hadn't thought of initially.

Hannibal was the Alpha she had always dreamed of - and she was certain he felt something too. The smiles, extra dinners and long conversations over wine were all, she thought, his way of courting her. The doctor was nothing if not traditional, of course, and to approach their mating any differently would be beneath him. She lingered often, inhaling his scent and let hers linger on him too. It was tentative, yes, but building steadily she thought. And then  _that night_...

She often found herself thinking of it - trapped in the moment as though bound there. In a way, it was hard not to be mesmerised. There had been so few encounters in her life, sexually, that had been filled with as much raw, open,  _desperate_  passion. She and Hannibal had been like animals in the wild, rutting and clawing at each other rather than the refrained, civilised people they were everyday. Alana had been more than happy to realise that his desperate need for control and composure didn't extend to the bedroom: although a man of his status and presence  _had_  to be dominant and unyielding - he was a Thoroughbred. It had been only the once, but it felt like much more. He had draped himself over her back, head forced into the pillows that were soon drenched with her own saliva, and rested his forehead atop of her spine, eyes tight and mouth closed. His fingers had dug into the headboard, something she later regretted not remedying - it would have been nice to bear his mark in some way - as he thrust into her over and over in sharp, violent stabs that sent stars skittering behind her eyes. He pulled out before he knotted, coming harshly over the sheets and whatever body part was closest. His knot, violent and red, kept pumping seed long after she'd been satisfied, soaking the bed-spread and no doubt drenching the room in his scent. He'd been different after, apologetic almost, and left quickly, retreating into his familiar, polite person with little more than a tight smile and a pained look in his eye. Alana, of course, had tried desperately to comfort him, but he'd only shaken his head and left.  

The following weeks were unnerving. Not least because of Will's unhealthy outburst and subsequent disappearance, but because of Hannibal's complete withdrawal from society. No longer would be entertain those who hovered around him like adoring fans, nor would he appear with home-made beer and a gentlemanly smile at her door like an old friend. There were no invitations to dinner, to parties, the opera - all of it vanished the moment Will Graham left the halls of the FBI. If she was honest with herself, she had considered that the two might be linked - the coincidence would be almost too high - but there was no real explanation as to how. She felt like she was missing something, something important, she thought, but it was all so unusual then... there was simply no true explanation for the untimely depression the Alpha had fallen into. Alana had hoped her presence, and her scent of an interested,  _fertile_ , Omega might boost his sombre complexion - although on the rare occasion she had seen him, it only seemed to make matters worse, his brow furrowing, the lines of his shoulders tightening and something flashed in his eyes she couldn't identify.

Still, despite his distancing from her, her mind often turned to that night.

She teased herself with the memories of them, of the choked of grunts and unparalleled violence of each thrust as his sharp hips slapped against her own. Alana always grew wettest when she recalled the sight of Hannibal's blown out, black pupils and the feral urgency he had taken her with. 

The day Jack Crawford called her into the quiet space of his office, however, she wasn't thinking of that. No, Alana was considering everything she held dear in the world and how she had managed to let Hannibal slip through her fingers. 

 _Hospitalised_. 

Her cheeks had flushed red as she tried not to cry, or scream, as all of the little worries in the world bled away. Jack's mouth continued to shape words that she had long since tuned out, and a buzzing white noise filled her ears. The notion reverberated inside her head, falling down through her chest and into the pit of her writhing stomach. Hannibal was hurt. 

 _Her_  Hannibal was hurt. 

Her breathing quickened as terror flooded her veins. It had been the Casanova killer, apparently, who had done the damage: he had wanted to go against the most revered of Alphas to prove his worth. He had lost, but Hannibal had been badly injured in the fight. He was being treated by the best in the field and he'd already endured three surgeries to repair the damage the killer had done. Jack only knew because a friend of his had recognised the patient name on a transfer that morning. Apparently Hannibal had been flown in for a final surgery that afternoon. Neither needed to speak to know that they both intended to be there when the other man woke up, despite having very different motivations for doing so. Jack: there was guilt, concern and probably fear - he couldn't lose another person. Alana? - well, Hannibal might very well be hers; she wasn't going to miss the chance to be there for the Alpha.  

She had to  _be_ there. 

And she would be. 

The drive to the hospital was long and quiet, with neither particularly eager to break the fragile silence that had settled over them. It was much like a heavy, weighted blanket, pinning them both in place. There was no where they could go, no where they particularly wanted to either, but there was the unmistakable question hanging over them: how had it changed Hannibal? Would he want to see her? Would he be ashamed that another Alpha had hurt him - had managed to hurt him? Would he worry she would no longer want him? Alana wanted to soothe any doubts. She knew that there wouldn't be another for her: an Omega  _knew_ after all. 

A gentle touch to her elbow had her up, out of the car and moving. She was suddenly so glad for Jack: a steady, calming presence, but also the one person who could cut through the tape. A flash of his badge and they were in, the hospital opening to them as though a velvet rope had been unhooked and the sea of people parted to let them pass. It was strange, in a way, but she'd been so happy to know there would be no wait to see Hannibal that she didn't question nor dwell on it... there were other, more important matters after all. They were on the top floor of the hospital and just stepping off the elevator when Jack's flash of a badge didn't work, though, and something akin to panic bloomed in her bowels and crept steadily northwards.

The man was broad - built like a house, he looked better suited to a boxing ring or a weight room than a hospital - and fierce. He stopped both Jack and Alana in their tracks, holding out a hand and halting their progress as though he didn't know who they were, or he didn't know who he was keeping apart. Alana wondered just what such a man thought he was doing. "FBI," Jack announced, moving to go past, confident and determined, Alana hurrying behind in his shadow. 

"I know who you are sir," the man - he  _must_ have been an Alpha, but Alana couldn't smell a distinct scent on him - replied, still blocking their path, "but you cannot go through."

Jack stumbled for a moment, seemingly unsure how to respond, before pressing ahead stubbornly. "I'm here to see Doctor Hannibal Lecter, he's a consultant and a friend," the man paused, "I'm FBI."

The Alpha/Beta body-builder narrowed his eyes before tilting his head to speak into a radio. "I've got a," he squinted at the badge before him, "Special Agent Jack Crawford, FBI, and an... well, the Omega female here boss. They want to see  _Him_."

There was a pause, a crackle of static before: "No one in, Shaun, and no one will be coming out either."

"Roger that sir," Shaun replied before turning back to the pair and shrugging once. He was ushering them back to the elevator without a hint of subtlety. "Sorry," he said, clearly not sorry at all. 

"I'm  **FBI** ," Jack stressed, incredulous. 

"You got a problem, call the boss," Shaun replied, blunt and cold, handing over a card and firmly pushing them back, hitting the button for the ground floor and making it clear that _neither of them_ would be getting past him. Even Jack, in all his bull-headed Alpha-ness wasn't going to challenge the man - although it may have been because he was too deep in shock to respond with anything other than compliance. Alana's own mouth was hanging wide open, no doubt making her look more than a little unattractive, but she couldn't believe the audacity of this _Shaun_ before her. The doors slid shut before either could utter another word and it began slowly dropping them a floor at a time. Alana leaned forward and plucked the card from between Jack's fingers. 

"This is a number for the American Omega Society, Jack," she breathed, stomach sinking like a stone, "why the hell is the AOS involved with Hannibal?"

Jack was silent for a moment before meeting her gaze:  _you know why_. Because there was only one explanation for something like that...

But,  **no** , it couldn't be true. It  _couldn't_. Hannibal would have said, he  _would have_. He wouldn't have got involved with her - slept with her - No.  _No._  

There must have been something else going on, she was sure, and Alana was sure as  **hell** going to find out what. 


End file.
